


Five Weeks

by ArashinoKo (storylinecontinuum)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Complete, Established Relationship, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storylinecontinuum/pseuds/ArashinoKo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It had been weeks. Five weeks, to be precise, since they broke up. And Shizuo still felt bitter. Not sad or hurt – bitter. It was proved by the way his lips pulled down into a distasteful scowl when he looked through the spyhole and saw exactly who it was, knocking at his door at the irritably early hour of 7am, just as Shizuo was getting ready for work..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first time posting here and my first durarara fic, so please bear with me ^^ I know Izaya may seem OOC, but I really wanted to explore another side of him (if there even is one :D). enjoy~ *sqeaks in a small voice and hides*

It had been weeks. Five weeks, to be precise, since they broke up. And Shizuo still felt bitter. Not sad or hurt – _bitter_. It was proved by the way his lips pulled down into a distasteful scowl when he looked through the spyhole and saw exactly who it was, knocking at his door at the irritably early hour of 7am, just as Shizuo was getting ready for work.

The bodyguard growled in quiet frustration and ran a hand through his bleached hair. It was too damn early for him to deal with Orihara Izaya. In fact, it was too early for anyone to be dealing with their ex-boyfriend. Especially if said ex was a knife-wielding, slightly psychotic _flea,_ who was more hell-bent than ever on making Shizuo's life a nightmare now that they'd broken up.

For a brief moment Shizuo contemplated pretending to be out, but he knew that to be pointless, for if Izaya was here, then he was sure Shizuo would be in his apartment. 'The perks of being an informant', the brunet himself had once said.

And sure enough, an all too familiar voice soon drifted from the other side of the door and startled Shizuo out of his little trip to the past.

"Shizu-chan. I know you're there. You can open the door now."

And Shizuo would have if something about that voice hadn't rubbed him the wrong way.

So the blond grit his teeth instead and decided that he wouldn't do as Izaya said, even if that meant he would be late for work, and should the flea try to pick his lock (that wouldn't be a first) Shizuo would make sure to trash him all the way back to Shinjuku.

A twisted feeling of satisfaction nestled in the blond's chest at the thought of ignoring Izaya, who'd dragged himself all the way to Shizuo's apartment for one thing or another and he grinned despite himself, trying to imagine Izaya's face when things weren't going his way for once. Serves the bastard right after the way he'd acted that night five weeks ago.

It was still fresh in Shizuo's mind. The horror he'd felt at hearing the words that left Izaya's mouth – all lowly accusations and sarcastic remarks riddled with spite. It had been uncalled-for and not only because it had been their fucking anniversary and Shizuo had put so much effort into making the night perfect for them. No, what Izaya had said that night was unexpected to say the least. Sure, they'd had their fair amount of fights before that, but having Izaya call him a burden and a sentimental fool and kick him out of his life for good was not something Shizuo was prepared for after having lived rather peacefully with the informant for a bloody year.

So naturally Shizuo had been pissed. So much so that he'd upturned a few cars on the way to his old apartment, where not much of the furniture had been left in one piece that fateful night. But even as his rage had boiled relentlessly, not once had Shizuo thought of breaking down Izaya's door and closing his hands around the informant's pale neck. Hurting Izaya had been out of the question even then - even as he screamed his lungs out in white-hot rage, causing most of his neighbors to leave the building at 2 am.

This hadn't changed in the following five weeks. To this day Shizuo still couldn't bring himself to cause Izaya any bodily harm, although even if he couldn't lay a finger on the informant, he could still torment the man psychically any chance he got.

Lost in his satisfaction, Shizuo didn't notice the note of something akin to desperation entering Izaya's voice and replacing its usual lilt as the door remained closed.

"Shizu-chan…please. Just open the door. We need to talk."

He was all but begging now and anybody who knew Izaya would realize how serious he was if he was willing to say the word please. Shizuo, however, could apparently care less seeing as there was no reaction, no sound of a key clicking in a lock, just a steely silence that said more than any curse or threat.

The blond actually felt good about himself. It was rare to be able to put Izaya in his place with the man being the self-satisfied bastard that he was. Although a small victory, it was a precious one and Shizuo would have reveled in it further had he not heard a soft disturbing sound, the source of which could only be Izaya.

It was barely audible, but in the same time loud enough to cause a feeling of suspicion to pool in Shizuo's stomach. _Did I hear right?_

Just as he was pondering whether to close the distance to the spyhole and have a look, the noise drifted up to him once again – a breathy, hiccupping sound that Shizuo was suddenly too afraid to identify as a sob.

Afraid, because Izaya Orihara did not cry, much less at someone else's doorstep for simply being denied entrance. Or perhaps it was just Shizuo, denying all that had happened between them and was genuinely worth crying for.

Still, the thought of Izaya shedding actual tears was unnerving, so Shizuo found himself stiffly making his way to the door, heartbeat thudding incredibly loud in his ears, and instead of lowering his head to the spyhole, his hand clasped around the cold metal knob and then-

"I'm sorry."

Shizuo froze.

"I'm sorry, Shizu-chan."

For an instant, the bodyguard thought he'd forgotten how to breathe and that instant lasted terrifyingly long.

"I-I was so scared… that I didn't really love Shizu-chan… s-so scared of that feeling. Nothing… had ever felt that way… So I wanted to… push Shizu-chan away, because… because I didn't want t-to get hurt… … or to hurt Shizu-chan."

Every pause was punctuated with a sob, which made the already muddled words even messier. Shizuo remained glued to the spot, drinking each and every one of them in. The pain that coated those words was starting to grip at his own heart. Cold waves of shock and warm ones of something he could actually identify (thanks to that person) raided his body and he still couldn't for the life of him figue out how to breathe.

"…I've never l-loved before… I'm terrified of it… but without Shizu-chan-…"

Izaya's sentence fell away into nothing and silence took its place only to be broken, moments later, by the soft creaking of a door being opened.

Shizuo stood in the doorway, taking in the stuttering mess of a man before him with a solemn amber gaze.

Izaya was really breaking apart.

Rivulets of tears ran down his face which he had bowed low in either shame or pain or both. He could not, however, hide the wet sobs that escaped him no matter how hard he bit his lip.

His hands were so tightly clutched into fists, skin stretched taut over small knuckles to the point of turning white, that it seemed almost painful. The lithe body was shaking from head to toe, looking even smaller than it already was in the dark fur-lined jacket, which appeared unusually unkempt.

From where he stood, Shizuo could not see the informant's eyes, but he had a feeling he knew what he would see in them, were the brunet to raise his head.

Seconds trickled by and the painful lump in Izaya's chest only grew, further and further restricting his breathing, forcing him to make those pathetic sounds. It _fucking hurt -_ all the feelings that he'd pent up and nourished for the past five weeks. Shizuo's presence was so near yet the stoic blond made no move to touch or hit him…

But just as his heart felt like it was ready to burst out of his chest, the world around him began to move, sudden warmth engulfed his body and his forehead came in contact with a bare chest. The contact was so shocking that it elicited another outburst of sobs from Izaya, who lost no time in wrapping his still trembling arms around Shizuo and pulling him closer. The relief was almost as strong as the pain and threatened to drown him with its force. All the while the tears never stopped.

Shizuo let Izaya cry to his heart's content. A warm smile was already tugging at his own lips and he moved one strong hand to rest on jet-black locks. No words were needed between them right now. Not after Izaya had said so much of what Shizuo always thought would never leave his mouth.

The blond stopped his thoughts from drifting to the past and allowed himself to bask in the moment. The small hands around his waist felt amazingly in place and he wasn't even slightly bothered by the wetness sliding down his abdomen. He had yet to put on a shirt after waking up and Izaya's fur-trimmed sleeves were tickling the skin on his back.

The whole situation was incredibly endearing and Shizuo felt all previous spite and anger evaporating from him to be replaced with heart-melting content and affection for the tiny figure in his arms. He was proud of what Izaya had accomplished today for he knew how difficult it was for the informant to swallow his pride, to apologize, to show weakness, _to love_ …

All his pride be damned, Shizuo was going to make sure to show Izaya how much he'd actually missed him all this time. Those five hellish weeks were finally over…


End file.
